I was hoping that Jack would get in touch with me here, but he didn’t. But you’ve all been very active. I think it’s only fair to tell you what’s been happening here all these months, right?
I’ll start from the beginning.
As you know, Jack came here for work and I offered him a spare room for the duration of his stay. He brought a bunch of equipment with him (more than he needed for his job), as well as a lot of strange stories. He was always asking about local legends and even managed to get his hands on some old newspapers.
It all started after he took a trip to the nearby town. “To learn about the history” he said. When he got back, he locked himself in his room. After that, we saw each other much less often. And now I know why. His every waking thought was about Gravewood High.
I don’t know how to describe it. A seemingly normal person starts slowly, inevitably changing right before your eyes. You ignore the signs for a long time, thinking it’s just fatigue. Strange old things began to appear in the apartment – old books, repair tools.
Things got even worse after the second visit to the school. Jack was complaining about sleeping badly and having a cold all the time, even though the heating was working properly. And he asked me if I could hear any sounds. Strange, unnatural sounds. He asked whether I felt anything abnormal. I told him I didn’t.
I was lying. Sorry, Jack.